Circular Sounds

Sub Pop;
2008

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Not that anyone's really asking, but the distinction between "music blogger" and "music critic" seems to fall along the lines of "Kelley Stoltz." Circular Sounds is proof of why he's wildly popular amongst the former, since it's a treasure trove for people who divorce mp3s from entire albums. The record seems mindfully considered with proper (if not particularly hip) sonic touchstones in mind, and it's easy to imagine Kelley Stoltz laying down the clip-clop percussion to the loping ballad "Gardenia" with a mile-wide grin after his thousandth listen of Pet Sounds. Whether politely rocking out or spinning something pastoral, Circular Sounds manages to come across as casual without seeming tossed-off. If could all sound good on the radio, even if you know that particular station exists in an alternate universe and probably switched over to reggaeton in 2006.

You have to wonder why Stoltz insists on the innocuously self-centered act of putting his own name on his records when he's spent so much of his time trying to be someone else, whether it's Jeff Buckley (answering fan mail as one of his interns), Ian McCulloch (covering Crocodiles in its entirety), or a cavalcade of 60s icons (his last LP, Below the Branches). Even the tracks that can remotely be considered contemporary still
conjure bands steeped in canon, as in the figure 8s of Elliott Smith
guitar work ("Tintinnabulation") or Spoon's brassy r(y)hthm and soul on
the grating character study "The Birmingham Eccentric".

Stoltz jokingly described the step up in production on Circular Sounds as "mid-fi," about right for someone who sounds like his home studio is overrun with every instrument he's ever come across except a computer. "Everything Begins" scampers about with woozy horns and piano, as welcoming as it is disorienting. More than last time, the album's got enough meat and gristle during the midsection to avoid the thing being swallowed whole. The pre-disco string hits of "Your Reverie" are his canniest production trick yet and "When You Forget" supplements its vocal melodies with ringing guitar lines that avoid becoming flavorless.

Yet the sum of Circular Sounds can feel impersonal, especially in how Stoltz hopscotches from voice to voice, some far stronger than others-- he doesn't have near the range to pull off the high notes on the village green waltz of "Mother Nature". "Put My Troubles To Sleep", a "what if?" proposition of Damon Albarn covering Graham Coxon, finds Stoltz trying to cope with an empty bed with everything from tequila to counting sheep. But its impact is dulled by a fussy music hall chord progression that makes everything feel preordained instead of inspired. Even the catchiest numbers derive their impact more from earworm repetition than any sort of pristine melodic architecture. "To Speak to the Girl" will wind around your brain in the same manner it's composed, as in a continuous, nagging loop of the title.

Waffling on Stoltz begs the question, "What would happen if he decides to scuff his treasured record collection with some of his own grooves?" 2007 was a great year for guys who channeled the 60s into a personal vision, but Caribou and Panda Bear did it from the mindframe of electronic music, whereas Stoltz is strictly a singer-songwriter. Desiring a Kelley Stoltz record with no outside artistic guidance is to wish for something that probably doesn't exist, so once again Circular Sounds renders Stoltz a non-entity, subject to your expectations alone.